


Prince Protection Program

by constellationmoles (Fawxy)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Modern Royalty, Prince Derek, Royalty, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Soulmates, Werewolves exist, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawxy/pseuds/constellationmoles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Derek is the grumpiest prince to ever prince. And Stiles can't believe people think that he would actually think they were a thing, or that they even talked for any other reason than that they live together.</p><p>Hm.</p><p>Okay maybe he's got it now.</p><p>Someone tried to burn down his family's palace though, and that shit aint right so now Derek has to be relocated to a sleepy town somewhere in California. Right into the sheriffs house. Where his son lives. The 16 year old with moles they made constellations after. The 16 year old that smells like strawberries covered (more like smothered) with vanilla. The boy who smells like fucking sugar when he's aroused.</p><p>The 16 year old that goes by 'Stiles'.</p><p>And Stiles hates him.</p><p>At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lmao wow so royalty au 
> 
> remember that one disney movie haaahaaaa yeah

If there was an award for grumpiest Prince, Derek Hale would be leading the parade down Gloomy Street and Scowl Avenue with a trophy the price of Stiles' future tuition. Though, Stiles thought, if you had to be in the Prince Protection Program, you'd be Mr. Grumpy too.

“Stiles, if I come up there and you don't even have pants on, I _will_ tell Derek Hale that you peed your bed until you were 7.” Stiles panics immediately.

 It's only then that Stiles Stilinski, who is most definitely not a prince, realizes he is only wearing boxers. So, of course, he finds sweatpants to put on. What he doesn't realize until a few seconds later is that his headphones are, in fact, still on his head. Well, more like on his face now. “Derek, this is my pride and jo- _Oh dear lord._ ” One hand on his hip, other hand acting like an embarrassment visor, like _that_ will save him from this scene. (Spoiler alert: It wont. At all.)

The stage is set. Stiles' stands in the center stage, lights on him and blinds drawn. Moans are emitting from his laptop speakers as he stands in his boxers, mouth open and drawing out 'uhhhhhh' like that will make up an excuse for whats happening. When he pulls his gaze away from a very disappointed dad, it falls onto the stranger next to him. The muscled, dark, stranger with eyes that almost made him cry. Or maybe he's crying because a prince walked in on him watching porn. He wishes he turned it away from the door, but that was almost impossible since the whole headphone fiasco turning it halfway between Stiles and his new guests. The young man on the screen is very apparent.

Also apparent is the veined dick in his mouth.

Haha. Time to cry and plead forgiveness.

“I don't know how you want me to explain this with him here.” A huff left Stiles' mouth after he said that, eyes flipping between the two in front of him. He couldn't say Derek's mouth was a fine line, just because of the fact that his lips are too luscious to be considered a fine line. The only fine line in the room was the fine line between Stiles and the window he was planning on jumping out of.

Derek's eyes only left Stiles once, and that was to look at the computer screen. And as for John. He looked pointedly over to the laptop before Stiles caught on. “Right, okay, yeah I got it dad. Right-” Stiles leaned over his laptop to shield everybody's eyes from the very hard face fucking going on right now while he slammed the computer shut.

When he turned back Derek and his dad were facing each other while Derek looked like he was communicating with his eyebrows.

“This is my son Stiles. No longer my pride and joy.” And with that, he left Stiles and Derek to stand staring at each other as he left down the stairs.

“Hey there...” He gave a wave, while the other hand rubbed at his neck. Great. This is his life. Derek just nods before he follows the Sheriff. “Great talk!” Stiles yells after him

 

Not exactly how he thought this would go, but then again he doesn't think it could have gone any better. Only worse. Downhill right into the pits of hell. It takes a second to understand that, this is literally his life. Hiding princes in his house and getting caught _almost_ masturbating by his dad. Oh yeah, can't forget the hot prince right next to him. Yay.

Just have to survive a year of this.

It's gonna be the best year ever.

* * *

This is gonna be the worst year ever oh my god how does this even happen.

An hour into 'Sir Hale' being here, all 3 of them are sitting at the table not looking at each other and picking at their food. The air is tense with awkwardness and 'You killed my boner by walking in but then again it may have came back when I saw your face.' Stiles isn't sure if that's actually in the air but it's a good guess.

“Look Stiles-” Oh no. Father is talking. _This is bad_ , Stiles thinks.

“Dad, please don't. I would like to enjoy my food without a second and revised version of the birds and the bees, with a sticker slapped on the front that says 'LGBT version'. And as much as I love talking to you both, Scott just texted me to ignore any awkward conversations for fear of anything supernatural hiding behind it. So, if you could be so kind to let me walk away from here before I cry.” Stiles begged. And if he could beg anymore, he'd be praying.

Well, that was a mouthful he didn't know he could spout. And if it could get any worse it just did, mostly because Prince Eyebrows over there opened his mouth more than an inch and, surprise surprise, TALKED.

“Supernatural?” Derek looked between Stiles and his father. Well, one word is progress.

“Uh, yeah. Supernatural. That is what I said and I'm wishing I didn't right now. Does the terrifying and unnerving-ness scare you, big guy?”

“Stiles.” First warning. He gets 2 more before anything happens, right?

“Yes father dearest?” Stiles leaned on his elbows towards his father, while the sheriff stared back as Stiles went for the innocent look, batting eyelashes and pulling his lip into his mouth to feign the little kid look.

“Please don't call him 'big guy'. Everyone is bigger than you. You look like you would be 140 pounds soaking wet.” His dad slid the newspaper over to Stiles to finish off this _great_ breakfast and to wash his plate in the sink, leaving Stiles and Derek alone for the second time.

“ _Ahem._ Whatever. I don't even know why you give me this, you just tell me what happens at your work. Remember. You being the sheriff and all. And I should be able to call him what I want. The whole idea of this thing is to make people think he's not actually a prince right?” There’s a shrug from Stiles and a half glare from his dad before he resumes washing the dishes.There is no answer. “Alright. I get it. Hard working man gotta scrub at them dishes. I respect that. What I do not respect is a guy as muscle-y as you is scared of a couple of ghosts or vampires.” When he turns to look back at Derek, he's giving him a bonafide glare unlike his dad.  
  
“I'm not scared of the supernatural. Actually, I'm more interested in it than you would think.” The glare turns into a lazy ( ~~charming~~ ) smirk as Derek leans forward on his elbows, palm under his chin.  
  
Stiles nods and stands up with his plate. “Uh huh, I'm sure you are. Be sure to wear a diaper before going into the haunted house, man. Besides, you could never surpass me in the level of interest I have in supernatural shit going down. Booyah!” He pointedly ignores the look his dad gives him as he shoves his plate into the sink in front of him without washing it.  
  
“You're cleaning that up later, you know that right?” The sheriff asked as he shut off the water, leaving the forbidden plate in the sink.  
  
“Just let me have this moment of defiance and coolness before he remembers he walked in on me watching gay porn.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three years later and i updated it would you believe that. i want to believe ive become a stronger writer, and i might be, looking the chapter that came before this one. but writing is one of things that all you can do is look back on what you wrote and make the next chapter better. i have no idea what im saying but you knowwww

Stiles wakes up forgetting about Derek. He wakes up to throw off his sheets, and he wakes up already knowing his father is at work. He thinks he’s home alone, and he is so wrong. 

Stiles starts his morning by rolling down the stairs,  _ just to see if he could. _ The answer is, he can, but with maximum injuries. Bruises were already forming on his skin as he quickly pulled himself up with groan. It didn’t even phase him. So, he just kept making his way to the kitchen, albeit holding his elbow.

If he  _ somehow  _ starts dancing to the sound emitting from his phone, he’s never going to talk about it. Stiles is getting pretty intense with his moves and also getting intense with the knife in his hand. What a horrible combination. At one point, he even drops the knife to shimmy over to the fridge. In his hand he has a glass bowl with butter in it. Why it’s in there, he does not know. In that moment, Stiles remembers Derek.

The reason he remembers him is because Derek is staring at him with eyebrows raised. Stiles can feel his soul leaving the building, but he can also feel the glass bowl leaving his fingers. He doesn’t even look at the glass now surrounding him. Stiles just lets his head drop, closing his eyes. “Why do we keep meeting when I’m making mistakes?” Stiles asks.   
“Maybe, just maybe, because you’re always making mistakes.” Derek says.

“ _ Oh _ , prince does have a bite.”

Derek seems unimpressed. 

Stiles is used to the look. “Now,” Stiles says, “the kitchen is covered in glass. I’m barefoot. You’re not. Could you perhaps bring me shoes so I could escape this deathtrap?” 

That’s the first truly alone experience they have.

With the glass cleaned up, Stiles is free to move around the kitchen to gather breakfast ingredients, under scrutiny the whole time. Frozen bag of diced potatoes, 3 eggs, cherry tomatoes, oregano, and cheese. So much cheese. Stiles is grabbing the butter when he finally looks up to his audience. Derek is just staring at the food, very uncomfortably, behind Stiles. “Oh right, you probably haven’t eaten yet. Do you want something to eat?”

Derek slowly shakes his head.  _ Still extremely comfortable _ . “Officer Stilinski brought me breakfast before you woke up.”

_ What? What kind of betrayal? It couldn’t have been that late _ , Stiles thinks. 

The clock shows 12:09 AM and Stiles’ perception of time has never been worse.

“Jesus. Well. Enjoy the show?” Stiles can only question if that was a question or a statement. Either way, he tries to ignore Derek to the best of his ability and continue cooking. He grabbed the pan from the cabinet below him. Grab tomatoes, cut those in half, throw them onto the pan. Let them cook, take them out, scramble eggs, pour, look up at Derek when an egg on the counter falls to the floor, shrug. Lower heat, grab another pan, pour oil, pour half the bag of diced potatoes, look at Derek again when a chunk falls onto the floor. Shrug again.

“Do you usually cook for yourself?” Derek said. Stiles doesn’t think it’s an actual question, more like a ‘you suck at cooking, why are you cooking’ statement. 

“Only breakfast. Dad is usually gone and I’m not about to starve because criminals need to be put in jail. And he doesn’t cook my potatoes right.” 

“How long?”

“How long have I been cooking?” Derek nods. Stiles whistles, “probably since I was 10. I assume you mean actual cooking. Not cereal. Or mac and cheese. Well, I can make a pretty strong case of mac and cheese being actual cooking, just ask my dad. The great mac and cheese debate of 2012.” Stiles smiles, even though his back is to Derek, as he flips what needs flipping. Derek makes a noise of acknowledgement. 

Stiles doesn’t bring up the reason why he learned. His mom taught him, of course. When she started feeling lethargic, in the beginning. She didn’t want to cook much, and Stiles wasn’t the worst kid on the planet, so he asked her to teach him how. They didn’t get past breakfast.

Stiles cleared his throat, filling the silence. “I’m serious, last chance to claim some of this for yourself.”

“I’ll pass.” 

As Stiles waited for the potatoes to turn crunchy, he finally cleaned up the egg and chunk of frozen potato. “I wish this is how we met, breakfast in the morning. Not our unfortunate, but sadly real meeting. I still maintain that my dad could have given me a few more minutes of warnings.”

“You dropped glass everywhere this morning.”

“Well, not all of us can be princes.”

Derek was silent, until- “I’m not even a prince anymore.” It was quiet, but Stiles heard it. Not that Stiles would let him know that he heard.

“Huh? Didn’t hear you.” Stiles can only hope he’s a good liar. Derek just shrugged, waving it off. Had Stiles been a better man, he would have comforted Derek. But Stiles isn’t, he’s the worst man in the world, and he’s barely even a man. 

It’s midnight when it really hits Stiles.  _ Derek is a prince, a fucking prince _ . The police and Scott’s dad has been preparing him for this for months now, not that he paid attention. There was a whole list of things not to talk about, and Derek walked in on him doing one of them. God, Stiles thinks,  _ a prince. _ Somebody who could be crowned one day, and he’s living in Stiles’ home for the next few months.

Stiles screams into his pillow.

It’s the sheriff’s day off on Sunday, so Derek follows him around the house for most of it, only joining conversation when they ask him something.

“How’s Scott’s job going?” His dad asks.

“He’s not complaining about it, even though all he does is clean up shi- ships. Shiploads of poop.” Stiles looks at Derek immediately, gauging his reaction. His dad just sighs. 

“Why don’t you work there with him?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love fluffy little beasts as much as the next guy, but I don’t want to be there when Murder the pitbull down the street needs his teeth cleaned and doesn’t want to go down for a nap.” At that, Derek almost laughs. He really just blows a bit of air out of his nose, a noncommittal laugh that isn’t a laugh. But Stiles thinks it a victory. 

“You sound scared of dogs.” Derek says.

“Hey, you’ve never met Murder. Or his teeth.”

“No, Derek’s right, you’re terrified of him, even when he was puppy.”

“He hasn’t been a puppy since I was an embryo!” Stiles doesn’t appreciate the team up against him.

“Stiles, he’s only three.”

Derek laughs. “You were 13 and terrified of a puppy?”

“I liked it so much better when you weren’t here. It was bad enough with you-” pointing at his dad, “mocking me for my spider-man phase.” 

“ _ ‘Phase _ ,’ please, you’re still going through it. Or do you mean the couple of years where you never took off your halloween costume, and would cry when I had to wash it?”

“Thanks dad. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He groans, standing up to leave the room immediately. “I’m going to my room, see if I ever come out again.”

The sheriff took this as the time to lean over to Derek and whisper- “he’s going to put on the suit.”

Stiles just groans louder as they laugh to themselves. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you actually liked this i want a 10 page essay why (no i dont)
> 
> should derek's pov be next??????  
> who the fuck knows


End file.
